One Little White Lie (11 page)

Since Kate had stormed out on him, Henry had been on an emotional rollercoaster that would not break speed. Firstly anger had claimed him and he'd wasted no time in expressing it to his interfering idiot of a brother. Then frustration had taken its toll, when Kate didn't respond to any of his phone calls or letters. Then depression had replaced this, as he realised that it was time to retain his dignity and give up.

To persist further was to lose all self-respect, or worse be the recipient of a restraining order.

He loved Kate.

Had been in love with her for over a month now.

He had never thought that finding the girl of his dreams would bring with it such misery. His soul ached as he replayed scenes over and over in his head, wondering what he could have changed, could have said to make her understand. But if his efforts to win her caused her this much pain, maybe it was time to let go.

On this wretched decision, he retreated back into his hermit-like existence dreading more than ever the release of the first book in his next trilogy. In four weeks' time it hit the shelves accompanied by a string of media interviews his publisher had planned for him. His anonymity was nearly at an end.

At 8 pm there was a light rap at his front door. He looked at his watch. The doorman usually buzzed him first before he sent strangers up. Therefore, it had to be Tom wanting to go out for drinks. Sighing, he got up and walked to the door. He just wasn't in the mood for it.

‘Tom, you really should have called first,' he began as he opened the door, but then stopped short when he saw who was standing there.

‘Kate.'

His heart jammed like a printer with too much paper in it.

‘Hi,' she whispered, tilting her head to one side. She had a copy of his new book clasped in her hands. She looked beautiful and uncertain and his eyes just ate her up.

‘Is … is this a bad time?'

‘No.' He found his wits and stepped back. ‘Of course not. Come in.'

She walked into his apartment, munching her lower lip between small white teeth. ‘I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here, after I hung up on you a hundred times.'

‘That many?' He rubbed his neck. ‘Guess I lost count.'

Her eyes darted to him and she winced.

‘Not,' he added quickly to reassure her, ‘that I blame you, because I would have hung up on me too.'

‘Henry, I –'

But he couldn't let her finish. Now that he had her in the same room, he was desperate to explain before she ran away again. He had to say everything that he had been saying to her in his head for the past few weeks.

‘Kate, that file you found was organised by my brother. He –'

‘Henry, I know. Tom told me.'

He was surprised enough to pause. ‘
He did?
'

‘Yeah,' she nodded sheepishly. ‘He sort of explained everything. I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you when you tried to tell me yourself.'

‘I can't believe Tom did that,' he breathed, shock briefly taking precedence over his nervousness. It was such an un-Tom thing to do. ‘Somewhere along the line I must have got through to him.' He shook his head in wonder and made a mental note to thank his brother later.

‘He also gave me this.' She turned his novel over, face first, and held it up against her chest. She hesitated. ‘I saw that you dedicated it to me. And I wanted to know … what that means.'

He studied her expression. Her large eyes glistened with doubt as she nervously licked her lips. The action so achingly seductive, he didn't know where to look.

A flame of hope flickered in his heart. ‘Oh, Kate.' He placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘What do you think it means?'

She veiled her eyes. ‘What do I make you believe in again?'

‘In love. I believe in love because of you,' Henry said fiercely. ‘And I never want to lose that – or you, for that matter – ever again.'

She nodded in slow motion. His flame of hope blew out as though snuffed by her silence. Maybe he'd said too much too soon. They'd only known each other for a few months.

He should have known better.

‘Look, Kate, I'm not hoping you feel the same way immediately. I just mainly want your forgiveness. Can we go from there?'

‘Henry.' She put her palm to his chest and he felt her warmth burn right through his shirt. ‘I love you too.'

His heart stopped and flipped over. ‘What did you say?'

‘I'm crazy about you.' She glanced up and he couldn't look away, Mesmerised by the power of her eyes. ‘From day one, you were my fantasy come to life. And I've been fighting my feelings ever since you first appeared. But I can't do it anymore.'

‘Then don't,' he breathed. He scooped her to him and kissed her with hungry passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and fitted her body into his, giving as good as she got. They stumbled across the room without breaking contact until they fell onto one of his big
green couches. A couple of the cushions bounced onto the floor to make room for their fall, his body half splayed across hers.

‘I've wanted to do this since the second you walked in the door,' he groaned, kissing her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her hair.

‘Then we better make up for lost time,' she muttered, grabbing his face and following his example, kiss for kiss. Her pretend boyfriend was real and he had cleansed away all the hurt that had stained her heart.

He nuzzled her neck and she chuckled with the joy and freedom of the moment. A mobile phone on the coffee table beside them buzzed and Henry glanced briefly at the winking screen.

‘It's my brother,' he muttered.

‘As much as I'm indebted to you brother, don't answer it.' She grabbed handfuls of his shirt as though to stop him.

He grinned, touching his forehead to hers. ‘And what shall I tell him when he demands to know why I wasn't answering my phone? Because,
trust me
, he will.'

She squinted heavenward and then smiled. ‘Tell him you went out and left your phone at home by accident.'

‘You want me to lie to Tom?'

Her mouth stretched into an incorrigible grin. ‘It's only one little white one. What harm could it possibly do?'

With a chuckle his mouth found hers again. ‘How right you are.'

I would be remiss if I didn't at this point mention my good friend Leith Brindle. After completing the first draft of this novel I deleted the entire manuscript from my computer by saving something over the top of it. Yes, a very dumb thing to do – even dumber because I didn't have a back-up. But I was tired, it was late, and in the click of a few buttons months of hard work had disappeared. Suffice it to say, it was devastating. I tried to get it back but nothing worked. I'm not very tech-savvy, which is probably why the deletion occurred in the first place. Then along came the wonderful, intelligent Leith, full of bright ideas and solutions.

I got my story back completely intact. So if it weren't for him, I can honestly say you wouldn't be reading this novel right now.

Thank you, Leith.

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For more information on these and upcoming titles, visit
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